


A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me"

by gothpandaotaku



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, Bottom Sam, Consensual Underage Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, High School, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Jared/Sam Challenge 2016, Omega Sam, Omega Sam Winchester, Top Dean, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothpandaotaku/pseuds/gothpandaotaku
Summary: Sam Winchester, the jaded new kid at school. Dean Winchester, the school badass who rides a motorcycle to school every morning. When they collide, sparks fly- the wrong kind. It's hate at first sight. But over time they find they have a lot more in common than they thought...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, the last one from the Omega Jared/Sam Challenge I had yet to upload. This is for day 1 of the challenge, Highschool AU.   
> This peace is actually very close to my heart, and I worked suuuuper hard on it. It's sort of the prototype of a novel-length High School AU I hope to write someday :)

“Who the fuck are you?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s who,” Sam snorted, not bothering to pick his head off the desk it was resting on.

“You’re in my seat, so yeah, it’s my business.”

Sam peeked one eye open at that. A tall, male model-looking type, obviously an Alpha by his strong spicy scent, wearing a motorcycle jacket and a worn Led Zeppelin tee shirt glared down at him. He opened his mouth to retort, but those eyes—a shade of green he’d never seen before in his life that would put emeralds to shame—left him speechless.

“Move it, shorty.”

Looking away—he was _not_ getting caught in that spell again—Sam cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t you make me, Pretty Boy?”

“What did you call me?”

_“Pretty. Boy.”_

“Hey, you two, get in your seats,” the teacher, Mr. Varner, an old and bitter skinny little Beta, pointed at them and barked as he walked in the door.

“He’s in my seat,” Dean growled.

“It’s a free country,” Sam snapped.

“Both of you. Detention. After school,” Mr. Varner snapped looking downright frazzled as he set his briefcase on his desk.

“But-” Sam and Dean said in unison, outraged.

“You want to make it two days?” Mr. Varner stared at Sam with a furrow in his brow, as if he were trying to decode him or something. “You, who are you? You’re not in my class, are you?”

Sam scowled but replied. “I’m new. Today’s my first day.”

“Huh? New student? I didn’t hear anything about a new student,” Mr. Varner glared at Sam as if it were somehow _his_ fault. “You got a name?”

Visibly holding himself back, Sam barely, _just barely_ , resisted the urge to scream. “Sam Wesson.”

* * *

 

Eight hours later and Sam dragged himself into the detention room, throwing his backpack on the floor and collapsing into the nearest seat. He laid his head on the desk and prayed he’d just be able to doze through the whole thing.

The loud clacking of a familiar pair of motorcycle boots made him pry an eye open and scowl. The smug, stupidly-pretty face of Dean Winchester strolled the door… and plopped down into the seat right next to him. Sam turned his face the other way and did his best to ignore him. But the spicy Alpha scent was stronger than he’d ever experienced before, practically clogging his nostrils, making it impossible to relax.

“Yo.”

Sam pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, hoping it would dampen the scent even a little, and ignored him.

“Hey.”

Sam sighed.

“What’s up?”

He grit his teeth.

“ _Whataya in for-?”_

“Ugh, will you just shut up already and leave me alone?” Sam whisper-shouted angrily. He glanced at the attending teacher, who was thankfully still fast asleep. He turned to glare at Dean. “I’ll give you your stupid seat back tomorrow if it means you’ll leave me alone.”

Dean shrugged. “I was just trying to make conversation, but works for me.”

Sam didn’t say anything, merely laying his back down on the desk. They spent the rest of the two-hour detention in complete silence, minus Dean’s mildly irritating whistling. He closed his eyes, but he could still feel the Alpha’s eyes on him and his scent surrounding him.

* * *

 

Sam stood on his tip toes in the school library, stretching his arms as far it could possibly go, and he _still_ couldn’t reach the book he wanted. _Dammit!_ Was it too much to ask to have a step-stool around here somewhere?

He caught the briefest whiffs of _Alpha_ before suddenly there was six feet of Dean Winchester in front of him, grabbing the very book Sam had been reach for, with ease.

“Whatcha reading, shorty?” Dean smirked.

“Give it.”

“What if I wanted to read this book too? I _did_ have it first, after all.”

“I highly doubt you’re into Shakespeare,” Sam snorted.

Dean paused and looked at the title of the book, _A Collection of Shakespeare’s Greatest Works._ “You got that right.” The Alpha tossed the book to Sam and gave a sarcastic approximation of a salute. “See ya around, shorty.”

_What the hell was that about?_ Sam thought to himself, staring in the direction Dean had left in. The interaction had lasted barely a minute, but the Alpha scent stuck with him.

* * *

 

Sam was used to being in libraries, they were some of his favorite places in the world. He could think of nothing better than being surrounded by books. Ever since he was young, it had been part of his routine to hang out in the closest library to wherever he happened to be living at the time, as long as physically possible. Here at Central High, the librarians were already learning his name.

He highly doubted the same could be said about Dean Winchester, however.

It hadn’t even been a full two weeks since he started at Central, and yet Dean had caught onto his routine. Since their first encounter in the library, every afternoon after school ended, Dean would show up in the back of the library, the reading section, where he _knew_ Sam liked to sit.

The first time he came, Dean had sat in a chair next to him, craned his neck to see the title of the book Sam was reading, and left after fifteen minutes when Sam ignored him. On the second day, he came with a book of his own in tow, staying for almost two whole hours without saying a word.

Today though, Dean had brought some heavy textbooks with him, a notebook and pencils, obviously working on homework. He’d been staring at the same page for ten straight minutes, a pout on his face that Sam _absolutely did not_ think was adorable on Dean’s handsome features, and appeared to be struggling.

Sam bit his lip. Should he…?

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, Sam pulled the book he’d been reading higher up so that it covered his face completely, and muttered quietly, “W-Whatcha reading?”

Dean’s head snapped up and he looked at Sam with wide eyes, as if he couldn’t believe Sam had actually spoken. He blinked several times before saying, “Uh, _Physics and You_. It’s a, ah, a physics textbook.”

Sam had to chuckle at that. “Yeah, pretty sure I figured that out.”

“Right,” Dean looked back down at the textbook. Sam could see his ears turning pink.

“Homework?”

“Yup.”

Feeling his own face heating up, Sam said, “I—I could, you know, help, you, if you, um, wanted.”

Dean looked up from his textbook and smiled. “No offense, but this is a _senior_ math class.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “ _No offense,_ but I’m a senior too. I took that class at my last school, and got an A.”

Dean’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. “Seriously?! No way! You look like you’re-”

“I _am_ fourteen. I’ve just… skipped a lot of grades in my time,” Sam shrugged.

“Holy shit,” Dean laughed, and for some strange reason that made Sam’s heart skip a beat, “I thought you might be in an AP class or two, but had no idea you were a _senior_. Yeah, gimme a hand, teach.”

Dean was smart. _Really_ smart. Just as smart as Sam, really. Sam only had to explain once, show him once, and Dean _got it_ , just like that. He just couldn’t stand still for the life of him. His leg was always bouncing, fingers always tapping on the book.

When Sam first had trouble getting Dean to pay attention, it didn’t take him long to figure out a solution.

“But Saaaaaaam, this is so _booooorrrriiiiiiiing_ ,” Dean whined.

“Tell you what,” Sam sighed. “For every question you get right, I’ll answer any question you have for me.”

“ _Any_ question?” Dean smirked, and Sam got a very bad feeling.

“Fine.”

Dean got all ten questions on the worksheet correct in less than fifteen minutes.

“What’s your favorite color?” Dean grinned, obviously enjoying the game.

“I dunno, blue?”

“Favorite football team?”

“The Cowboys.”

“Really? Me too!” Dean’s eyes lit up, and Sam blushed. On and on it went, until Dean reached the last question. “What are you?”

This was it, the question he’d been dreading. Sam was religious about taking his suppressant every morning, so he knew Dean couldn’t smell him, and probably figured he was a simple Beta. He could let Dean keep on thinking that. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with the stigma of being an incredibly rare male omega at this school and the ridicule that came with it, like he had in some of his past ones.

But that didn’t feel right.

Something about the Alpha’s scent, that he’d become very familiar with in a short amount of time, was… almost comforting. It was like he _knew_ it, deep in his bones, and found himself smelling it sometimes when he was alone.

“O-Omega,” Sam whispered, barely audible.

Dean’s eyes visibly widened, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he reached over the table they’d been studying at… and squeezed Sam’s hand.

Sam squeezed back.

* * *

 

Somehow, it had become a game of theirs to play twenty questions nearly every day; usually at lunch or while they companionably completed their homework together.

“Favorite band?”

“ _Zeppelin!_ ” Dean did the rock-on symbol with his fingers and Sam rolled his eyes. _Of course_ Dean would be into classic rock. “My turn. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I dunno…” Sam blushed. Usually when he told people what he _really_ wanted to be, they laughed at him. “Maybe a, a lawyer.”

“That’s awesome! Man, I can totally see you doing that,” Dean grinned, nothing but happy for Sam, something that Sam definitely wasn’t used to. Sam’s breathe caught in his throat. “Now me, I just wanna be a mechanic, like my uncle and like my dad, but you… you got dreams.”

“It’s nothing special,” Sam blushed despite himself. “Uh, my turn, where abouts do you live?”

“Live with my uncle out in the boonies. Man, it takes half an hour to get here on my motorcycle. But he runs a salvage, and has a pretty big house, even made an addition just for me when I moved in after my dad left-” Dean froze.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sam said soothingly. Dean looked like a wild animal about to bolt. “You can talk to me about it, if you want. I don’t… I don’t have parents either.”

“You don’t?” Dean asked in a small voice, like a child.

“Nope,” Sam shook his head. “I’m an orphan. Mom died when I was a baby, never met my daddy. Grew up in the system, til they got tired of my shit and just decided to make me an emancipated minor. Figured I was smart enough to handle it,” Sam shrugged casually.

Suddenly he was surrounded by warmth, and the familiar scent that he’d come to crave above all others. Dean wrapped him up in his strong, Alpha arms, murmuring “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.”

Sam buried his face in Dean’s neck and breathed in his scent.

* * *

 

For only the second time in his life, Sam’s heat hit. And it hit _hard_. Like a fucking freight train. One moment he’d been perfectly fine, the next he’d been curled up on the ground feeling his bones _ache_ and fire in his veins. After his very first heat, when he presented as Omega, he’d immediately gone on suppressants, wanting to avoid this very situation.

“Shit,” Sam moaned, wanting to scream but not having the energy to do it. Heats could last up to a fucking _week_.

A whole week without Dean.

Shivering, naked, and curled up on his shitty one-room apartment’s floor, feeling like he was being burned alive, Sam gave in to the need to cry.

Five days later, and the heat was unbearable. Time had lost all meaning to Sam, as he spent it curled in on himself on the floor, praying for death. He was dozing when he heard a soft knock on the door. Pulling himself up on shaky legs, he grabbed the nearest shirt and forced it over his head, trying not to scream at the pain. By the time he made it to the door he was afraid his visitor would have left already, but he opened it, leaning on the doorframe for support.

Dean stood inches in front of him, his hand already halfway to the door. He froze like a deer in headlights. “I was, uh, you were gone. For a whole week. So, I, uh, wanted to, to check on y-”

“Come in,” Sam rasped, the only thing he had energy for. Dean shuffled in nervously while Sam barely made it to the mattress on the floor before collapsing.

“Sam! Are you okay?” Dean gasped, rushing over to him.

“S-sorry. It’s just the heat,” Sam breathed.

“You’re in heat?”

Sam nodded.

“I can go, if you want, if that makes things easier?”

Slowly, Sam shook his head. No, it wouldn’t make things easier. He’d known Dean for all of two months, but he couldn’t _bear_ to see him leave. The past five days, the _only_ thing he’d wanted… was Dean.

“I—I _need_ you,” Sam murmured.

It only took a moment for Dean to decipher that. “What? Sammy, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t want _me_. You barely know me.”

“Nuh-uh.” Sam shook his head again. “I _know_ you, Dean. Your two favorite songs are Traveling Riverside Blues and Rambling On. You’ve never met a piece of pie you didn’t like. You can’t sit still to save your life. You don’t want to be a mechanic because your uncle is or because your dad is, but because _you_ want to. And I know _you_ are my mate.”

“You feel it too?” Dean whispered, eyes glassy with unshed tears. “All this time, I thought it was just me.”

“I’ve known it from the moment I met you… I just didn’t want to be mated to someone who thinks _licorice_ is a good candy.”

Dean laughed, a fully belly laugh, and Sam felt a completely different warmth fill his heart.

With sloppy kisses and trembling hands, they undressed each other with urgency. Dean’s long finger traced Sam’s entrance, slick just _pouring_ out of him now, and he just _had_ to taste. He spread Sam’s legs and licked a stripe up Sam’s hole before thrusting his tongue in.

“ _Dean!_ ” Sam screamed.

He continued to open Sam up with his tongue, Sam producing so much delicious slick that it didn’t take long at all. He spread some of it along the length of his cock and slowly thrust inside Sam.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Sam sobbed, his entire little body practically convulsing with pleasure.

Dean set a steady, passionate pace, fucking Sam deep and good. “ _Sammy.”_

He said it like a revelation.

All too soon Dean’s knot swelled, catching on Sam’s rim, and he knew he was close. “Sammy, can, can I-?”

“Fuck, Dean, _please_. Knot me, knot me, knot me,” Sam panted, meeting Dean’s every thrust. The Alpha leaned forward and sank his teeth into the soft flesh of Sam’s neck, creating the Mate Mark. Dean came for what felt like an eternity, his knot locked inside Sam, binding them. Forever.

* * *

 

A month later, and the trees were bare, a slight bite to the air.

Sam and Dean kneeled before the grave of Sam’s mother, the only way he’d known her. He’d wanted Dean to meet her. Dean had brought her favorite flowers, roses, and Sam fell a little more in love with him.

He lay the flowers on her grave and kissed her tombstone, smiling. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mama. I’m alright,” he whispered.

“You never told me how she died,” Dean asked, merely curious.

“In a housefire.”

“Really? Mine too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this one!!! <3


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